


Further Analysis Must Be Acquired

by The_Road_So_Far_Paved_With_Blood



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Oblivious John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 11:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Road_So_Far_Paved_With_Blood/pseuds/The_Road_So_Far_Paved_With_Blood
Summary: John keeps staring at Sherlock and he wants to know why.





	Further Analysis Must Be Acquired

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 1: Formatting, grammar, punctuation.

Sherlock had been anxiously waiting for a good case, pacing the living room of 221B while John sat writing their previous one on his blog. Sherlock tapped his fingers together, a tick he had learned to do to calm himself as he scanned the room for any sign of something he may have missed.

John ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling as he finished and published the entry.

"Sherlock, do you have any cases yet?"

Sherlock didn't answer, a sure sign that he was in deep thought.

"How about we go to Speedy's. You like that one, right?"

This brought him out of his shell. The mention of food and a chance to run into someone who could have a case for them. Brilliant!

"I do, John."

John closed his laptop and stood up, straightening out his ruffled top and groaning deeply.

"Something the matter, John?" Sherlock inquired, clearly noticing John's state.

John stared at Sherlock for a good ten seconds before responding, "No. Not- Nothing at all."

Sherlock, knowing all of the ways to identify a lie, knew he was lying. He didn't think anything of it, though. Could have just been a cramp from sitting. Nothing serious.

"Alright, let's go, then," Sherlock said, hopping down the stairs.

This caused Mrs Hudson to come out of a nearby door.

"Sherlock! Must you cause all of that noise?"

John replied for Sherlock immediately. He had grown quite used to doing that.

"Sorry, Mrs Hudson. We are going to get some food. Do you want anything?" John said with a small smile.

"No, nothing for me dear," Mrs Hudson replied. "Thank you for asking, though. Very sweet. Very sweet indeed."

She pats his cheek and walks back into her flat.

Sherlock opens the door of 221 Baker Street and walks out of it, holding it open for John to follow. The gesture of appreciation did not go unnoticed by the doctor, but neither of them mentioned it.

That was something they did. John saves Sherlock from a moment in which he could hinder himself; Sherlock performs a gesture in return. Usually, it'll be something as insignificant as holding open a door or treating him to food. One time, though, after a moment that was quite larger than your average save, Sherlock had let John take a picture of him in the famous hat to post on the blog. John was quite happy at that. Sherlock shrugged it off when asked about it.

Once they entered the restaurant, Sherlock found the nearest table and sat down. His hands placed together against his face, right under his chin. His lips, pursed, as they always were in that position.

"Same as usual, Sherlock?"

A nod came from the detective as they locked eyes. John stared for 30 seconds and then turned. Sherlock took note of this occasion.

'He has been staring for longer each time. More information must be taken.'

Once John came back with the food, he placed it on the table. He then sits down next to Sherlock.

"Ah, thank you, John."

Sherlock moves closer toward John, sitting too close to John for his usual comfort. But, his feelings didn't matter at this moment. All that mattered was his experiment.

Sherlock moved closer to the doctor, their thighs touching, startling John.

"Sh-Sherlock? What are you doing?"

Sherlock tilted his head slightly and turned it to look at John.

"Nothing."

He proceeded to eat his food as John relaxed into their new position. Sherlock noticed this and decided to go further. He placed one hand on John's knee, his smallest finger settling into a crevice between bone and muscle, and his thumb on the tip of Watson's knee cap.

John, in an attempt to not startle Sherlock, slowly reached his hand down to remove Sherlock's. To his surprise, Sherlock's grip was much stronger than John could anticipate. Not enough to hurt the man, but enough so that it could not be removed. John huffed and gave up on trying.

The others in the deli saw this and laughed to themselves, paying off bets and wagers that had been set at earlier dates.

As the last of their food was finished, Sherlock moved to the edge of the booth and hopped off. His rubbish in his hands ready to throw into the bin. Once done, he looked at John, who was still sitting at the table with his own scraps. He gazed deep into Sherlock's eyes before either man spoke.

"Come on, then. We have a case to attend to."

With that, Sherlock was out of the doo. Not wavering a bit to let John catch up.

"Case?" John whispered.

He took his scraps and threw them in the bin, nodding to the man who owned the place as he walked out. He jogged up to Sherlock's side as they began to walk past the door to 221 Baker Street.

"Sherlock, uh, what case are you referring to? Just a bit ago you were whining about not having one."

"I do not whine," Sherlock said, defensively. "I did, indeed, find a case. Yours."

"Mine? Wha-what d'you mean mine?" John stuttered, flustered at this admission.

"Ah, my dear Watson. I cannot tell you that as it would ruin the-," Sherlock threw his hands up above his heads in a V and put on his best Television-announcer voice, "Investigation!"

John laughed slightly at this. Sherlock had always been quite the dork.

"Alright. Where are we going, then? If that won't ruin your, ahem, investigation," John used finger quotes around the last word.

"The cinema."

"Why the cinema?"

"To see that movie you've been talking about, Crimes of- what was it?"

"Grindelwald."

"Ah, yes. The Crimes of Grindelwald."

"I didn't know you had been listening all of that time. You usually don't."

"No, I do. I just filter out the nonsense you spew out of that mouth of yours."

"Gee, thanks," John laughed.

"I saw all of the signs of pure admiration while you were speaking about the movie, eyes lightening up, breathing hitching, voice going up octaves. So, I deemed it useful and filed it."

As they approach the cinema, John can't help but wonder.

"Ah- Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" Sherlock hums, purchasing the tickets.

"What was that thing at Speedy's all about?"

He says his thanks to the man behind the plexiglass and points to the door.

"Another thing I cannot say without ruining my investigation."

John hands his tickets to the man. He scans them and punches a hole through them before returning them back to the pair.

"Go to theatre 5 and have a great time," He says before mumbling something.

The pair choose to ignore whatever it was he said, though Sherlock definitely had some ideas about that fact. They walk up to the concessions area and wait in line. Sherlock grabs some sour candies from a display while John picks up a bag up MnMs. Once they get to the register, Sherlock requests a large popcorn for the two of them to share and two medium colas. He places his candies on the counter and motions for John to do the same.

Once paid for, John and Sherlock continued to theatre 5 to watch the movie.

Halfway through a very intense scene, John places his hand atop Sherlock's. His eyes fixed themselves shut as the loud noises began to resonate in his skull. Sherlock held John's hand tight.

John, with his eyes still closed, turned to face Sherlock. He peered slightly out of an eye to look at Sherlock. The detective was watching the movie, not paying any attention to John besides his hand now being on top of John's. A coy smile was plastered on his face.

As the movie quieted down and Newt once again began to speak, John turned his head back and opened his eyes; Their hands still together on Sherlock's knee.

As a new character was introduced on the screen, John removed his hand and sat forward, elbows on his knees. His hands tucked away under his chin. Sherlock looks over to the doctor as opposed to paying any attention to the movie. John's too immersed in the plot to notice Holmes’ arm snaking its way around his waist. The armrest between them goes up and slides perfectly between the two polyester seats.

The detective, in a moment of pure - he refuses to say 'love,' as it is more of an admiration - pulls John into his own body.

"Wha- Sherlock?" John questions, quietly.

Sherlock merely places a finger upon his lips to quiet the man. He proceeds to pull John in far enough that their thighs are touching. Holmes can practically feel John squirming in his docs.

Around ten minutes go by. John has calmed down, and both of them are entranced in the movie.

As the movie ends and the credits roll, John stands up. He grabs the empty popcorn container that they put all of their trash into. They both walk over to the exit, John dropping it into the recycling bin. Sherlock grasps John's hand, they walk all the way back to 221B.

\-------------------

They enter the flat, and Sherlock falls onto his chair.

"That was quite the movie, John. Don't you think?"

John goes to reply but gets jumbled up with his own words.

"I'd say so. We should go again sometime," Sherlock replied to himself.

John sits down on his own chair, placing his head in his hands. Sherlock scans John for any signs of physical discomfort; none.

"John? Are you alright?"

John hummed and looks up, "Oh- yeah."

Sherlock hops up and kneels down next to John. He places his thumb and forefinger onto John's chin and tilts it up to look him in the eye, "Are you sure?"

A crimson blush spreads across the doctor's face, he attempts to shake the taller man off.

"What? Yes! Yes, okay? Get- Get off me!"

Sherlock places a hand on John's knee, and holds it down, getting closer to his face.

"I have a feeling you're hiding something from me. Is that true?"

"Wha- No! What're y-" Sherlock moves close enough to brush noses with John, "Yes! Okay, I am hiding something! J-Just get- get off of me."

Sherlock takes this as an opportunity to slide himself into the chair with John. His legs straddle the small space that John doesn't take up with his own. Sherlock tilts John's head up and leans down to whisper in his ear.

"Your pupils are dilated and your heart is racing. Tell me, doctor, what do the symptoms suggest?" He purrs.

"Uh- I, er. Th-those are examples of- ah- m-many things. You'd have to- to be more specific?"

Sherlock snaps back to look him dead in the eye, "You know precisely the answer to my question."

“Oh, shut up and kiss me, Sherlock,” John says, wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s neck and pulling him in.

Sherlock rests his arms at John’s waist, pulling their bodies together as their lips move in sync.

Needing to breathe, John pulls away and pants heavily. Sherlock grins at him.

"This- uh, this was the case. Wasn't it?"

"It may be. I don't believe I've fully solved it, though.

John gives the detective an inquisitive look, "Wh-what do you mean? I kissed you, that's the only answer you need."

Sherlock smiles, "No, John. This is just the beginning."

"The beginning of what?" John snaps.

"Everything," Sherlock kisses him again.


End file.
